Routes Unknown: Vienna
I've been sitting on this idea for a while now. The thought first hit me in Rome, sweating through a run alongside the Tiber, its wild water loud, murky, and indifferent to my presence. But it was Valencia that sealed the deal.
Running the full length of Turia Park, that ridiculous ribbon of green where a river used to be, made me think: maybe there's something here worth documenting. The impulse to track these runs, to remember them beyond stats and fading muscle memory.
Still, wanting to do something and actually doing it are different beasts. It took an 8-kilometer loop through Vienna today to finally push me over the edge. Here we are.
The Tech Made Me Do It!
Back in February, my wife and friends gifted me a Garmin Fenix 7 watch. I discovered it had two features that changed the game entirely. The first is Suggested Workouts, which sounds gimmicky until you realize it actually adapts to whether you've been sleeping like garbage, traveling, or just generally being a mess (which I often am, despite my age). The second is even better: automatic course generation. You tell the Garmin Connect app on your Android how far you want to run, and it plots a round course that brings you back where you started.
Narrow Alleyway
The genius of it is how it forces you to explore. The watch drags you through neighborhoods you'd never think to visit, down streets you'd walk past without a second glance. For someone like me, who arrives in a city with no knowledge of running routes, it's perfect.
Uphill, Fucking Uphill
The first two kilometers went straight uphill. Not a gentle incline, but the kind that made me question life choices (including a bagel for breakfast) within minutes. I was sweating hard, lungs burning, legs protesting. But here's the thing: I hadn't run properly in two weeks. Been sick, feeling like trash, the usual excuses. So even though it hurt, it felt good. That specific kind of good.
Then the route dropped down into Heiligenstadt, a residential chunk of Vienna's 19th district that I vaguely recognized. With quiet streets, this area doesn't scream "tourist attraction" but has its own weight. And then I saw it: Athens, a Greek restaurant where my wife, her family, and I once had dinner. Called her immediately, said we should probably go back there in the next few days. She agreed. Of course she would.
The Alleyway Gamble
Just before the restaurant, the course turned into a narrow alleyway. The kind where you're not sure if you're trespassing or if this is actually a public path. I would've second-guessed it, maybe turned back, but other people were walking through. That's the thing about following a pre-set course: you commit to weird turns you'd generally avoid.
Spiraling parks
Both sides of the alley were lined with houses and gardens. Not manicured, show-off gardens, but the lived-in kind. Trees hanging over fences, the smell of damp soil. Then you cross a road and suddenly you're in a big park with spiraling walking paths. People were out with their dogs, and the street lamps were starting to flicker on.
And then, almost without warning, I stumbled onto a waterfront.
The Donaukanal (Probably, I Don't Know)
The running and cycling path along the Donaukanal is what you'd want from urban infrastructure. Wide enough for everyone, smooth enough to keep pace, and lined with the kind of graffiti and murals that make you forget you're exercising. This is why running is a perfect discovery tool for street art. You're moving slow enough to notice and fast enough to cover ground.
Water calms my soul
Two pieces stopped me in my tracks. One was a hissing cat, all teeth and wild energy, sprayed in pink and greenish tones. The other was a skull wearing a fedora, holding a rose, with a bird perched on its shoulder. Memento mori with a side of elegance. I took photos because that's what I do. When I'm exploring, pace doesn't matter. I'm not chasing times or personal records. I'm just there.
Obligatory jumping photo
For three kilometers, the path stretched along the water, passing cyclists and other runners, as well as the occasional couple walking too slowly and occupying the entire path. The annoyance is charming because it means the space is used and loved.
Hiss off!
I love the lighting on this one. The bird is barely visible
Back to Civilization
Then the path spat me back out onto bustling Vienna streets. Ambulances screaming past, loud enough to hear even with noise cancellation on. The shift was jarring, from quiet water and street art to the honking of cars and the clanging of trams.
The colorful chimney of the Spittelau incinerator greeted me, making me aware that I had almost completed my run. There's something about a city that makes even its waste treatment plants artsy.
Turning trash into art
This was my first proper Vienna run, as far as I can tell. I'll probably do more, but I doubt I'll write about them. This one felt worth documenting because it's the first. It kicked off this whole project, and I presume I'll eventually get back to pulling Valencia and Rome runs from my memory and documenting them.
Until then, I'll keep on running.
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